


Attenborough should narrate this

by dublin



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M, Nick Grimshaw (mentioned) - Freeform, Parent/Child Incest, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-11
Updated: 2013-02-11
Packaged: 2017-11-29 00:07:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/680422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dublin/pseuds/dublin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's home for a little bit. They need this every now and then.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Attenborough should narrate this

They had some wine, classy in clean glasses not the makeshift _really cool no really they're cool_ ones at Nick's. Harry had sent photos and Nick had replied with lulz and things a few hours ago before Harry's phone had wound up between cushion and arm of the sofa.

"It's good though, isn't it?" he said between sips, meaning Cheshire and home and being home for a change, Gemma with friends and Robin down the pub, leaving them for a bit of time by themselves. He'd be bored by tomorrow and on the way back down to London. Nick had plans and Harry would tag along. He clinked his nails against the glass. "Do you miss me sometimes?" he said.

"Never." His mum laughed, eyes crinkling, as she pushed her toes under his thigh.

"Because I miss you sometimes, you know," he said. His phone buzzed from behind the cushion but he was too lazy to move. 

They'd had the TV on earlier before something with canned laughter started, so now the coloured, staticky images flickered through the room but there was little past the faint noise of the boiler in the kitchen and them.

"Is Nick up this weekend?"

"No, down in London. He's doing things." He handwaved something that spelled specific drunken club antics after too much wine, handjobs, blowjobs and waking up in a flat somewhere in London hoping the cabbie wouldn't recognize him on the way back to his house. His mum nodded and went still when his hand fell to her ankle.

"He said he'd be up sometime. He said he'd be by," Harry said. He brushed this thumb over the bone on his mum's ankle just there, down the span of her foot where it smooshed into the sofa under his thigh.

They'd had Nick here lately, after too much wine, childhood stories and accidental erections that had stayed when Nick had nuzzled into her hair, muttered about mistakes but, no surprise, never stopped when she'd just looked at Harry and Harry had nodded and gone for Nick's cock and his mum's pussy. 

"He knows he can do better," his mum said, chuckling, bending her toes up to poke into Harry's thigh. "And younger." She looked at him meaningfully.

"You're not old though." Harry set the glass on the coffee table and crawled to kneel between his mum's legs. He brushed his hands up her knees to her thighs, jogging trousers and an oversized hoodie of his not making her any less attractive.

"I am though. Old enough to be your mum," she said, straight-faced, amazingly, even when Harry looked up to glare at her. 

" _I_ don't think you're old though." He pushed his hands under her hoodie and pulled at the waistband of the trousers until she'd wriggled them to just clinging to the tops of her thighs, triangle of underwear just visible. He brushed his thumb over her underwear, the crinkle of a line of pubic hair underneath, and he made all the vows in the world to visit more often.

Nick had drawn the line at eating pussy. Harry had never had a line there. 

Nick filled most of his holes most of the time, but he wasn't family. Not quite yet, even if he was being good about the flowers and the wooing and the watching Harry between his mum's legs. 

His mum curled her fingers into his hair, and he went easy as she pulled him down until he nosed along the line of her knickers and pressed his lips to her damp skin. She angled her hips up for him and he nudged the fabric aside. She was wet, and he licked a line from her thigh to her pussy, around his fingers pulling the knickers away and over her lips. 

"We should let him watch," he said. They could facetime it easy, have him watch somewhere in a cab in London with his friends all around him as Harry sucked on his mum's clit and pushed two fingers into her. 

She moaned, hand holding him between her legs and he shifted to get comfortable where he was, face where it belonged and nothing but her quiet moans and the squish of her pussy around his fingers. He sucked and slurped at her, as he pulled the jogging trousers off her legs, then pushed her legs farther apart until she slid one calf over his shoulder and grabbed the other knee, opening up for him.

Nothing was like the long nights in her bed, eating her out before sleep and again come morning, spending the time naked with her slipping onto his dick and riding him, his hands fondling her breasts. Life now was different, and he had everything, no complaints, but nothing was quite like coming home. 

He slid his free hand up her body until he could grip at her breasts, no bra around the house, and brush his thumb over her nipple, squeeze at the round weight of her breasts as he tried to press his tongue between his fingers, nose rubbing around her clit. She dug her heel into his back, pulled him in tighter and ground her pussy into his face until all he smelled and tasted and heard was her, like some kind of psychodelic heartbeat on bullshit music albums he only listened to because Nick raved on and on even when Harry had his cock in his mouth.

He fucked her with his fingers, slipping in three to see her open around his knuckles, skin stretching wet and hot red as he pushed them into her hole. Nick joked that he'd not be there if Harry had a pussy on top of an arse but her arse was the first Harry had fucked, after he'd eaten her out and she'd come around his fingers already. He'd eased in carefully, slowly, and she'd clenched around him, face in the pillows, her long back exposed, breasts hanging underneath her. Nick wasn't much into giving up his arse for anyone, so Harry came back sometimes for that. Most of the time though for the taste of her. He slurped up her wetness seeping out of her around his fingers and sucked it off his fingers when he pulled them out and looked down at her gaping open a little bit for him.

"You did miss me," she said, face flushed, eyes a little wet.

"I told you I did" Harry said. He pushed his boxers just barely down and pulled on his cock a few times before he moved forward between her legs, pushing her knees up to her breasts and sank into her easy, having her go hot and soft and everything he could want from her. She half-sighed, half-moaned and leaned up until she could kiss him. She pulled him down with her hand on his neck and his hands found her breasts between them. They got the sweater off of her and her naked, save for the bit of string and fabric of her knickers, and they kissed, bodies pressing close together as she moved her hips up to fuck up into him and he thrust down in to her.

"Always my baby, aren't you?" she whispered against his lips, breath fanning hot over his cheek, before he caught her lips again and sucked at them, sucked on her tongue, knew she'd have to be able to taste herself on his mouth. Her pussy was slick around him and he leaned down to suck at her nipples, bite lightly at her breasts as she fucked, not minding the flash from the photos she took.

"He'll like them," Harry said between thrusts, between licks, as he ground his cock as deep into her as it could go, and Nick probably would. He'd go hard for it, complain that Harry always went up without him when he wanted a bit of pussy for himself. And there was some truth to that probably. Nick fit well with them, but sometimes he needed just this, curling up on the couch together, moving back to front like they did now as he shifted her leg over his thigh and pressed himself in close and slow like they had all the time in the world.

They had far too few of these moments now, had to enjoy them while they were there. 

Harry's phone buzzed from where it had slid between cushion and arm of the sofa but Harry ignored it, hand too busy cupping his mum's breast, cock too busy fucking into her pussy to have time for Nick's outraged gibberish. 

"You know he thinks I'm obsessed with you, with the photos on my phone. I look at them every time I, you know, wank. Love the way you finger yourself." He slid his hand down to her pussy and rubbed along her clit, joining her fingers there. She thrust back against him immediately, fucking herself harder on his dick, arse pushing agianst his groin.

He was mouthing along the side of her neck when she came, felt her clit pump, hips shake and everything go tense and tigh taround him and then he fucked her a while longer, just a little more, with thoughts of Nick watching from across the room maybe or on his knees next to them watching cock go into pussy like he was seeing it far too rarely to comprehend. _Attenborough should narrate this_ , he'd said the last time. _It'd be his new show, Styles - Porn in Motion. It'd be good, that_ , he'd said.

It'd be perfect.

Harry came, muffling his stupid embarrassing groans in his mum's shoulder as he spilled into her and fucked his come deeper with every thrust until he only jerked with the little aftershocks and eventually slipped out. 

"Nice," his mum said, laughing under her breath and Harry nodded against her back, kissed along the nape of her neck and down to her spine. The TV was still on, their phones had stopped ringing. "You shouldn't tease him like that," she said as she showed Harry the pictures she'd sent him, his hand on her breast, his cock in her pussy, all blurry from moving too much. 

"You love it," he replied. Truth was, they both did. Nick was almost family after all.


End file.
